It was Dick who first learned what had happened, and soon all knew.  They discussed it fully as they rode back on their own tracks, and on the whole they were glad they were to return.

“I don’t think I’d like to be tearing up railroads and destroying property,” said Dick.  “I prefer anyhow for the valley to be my home at present, although I believe that dispatch means nothing.  Why, the Confederates can’t possibly rally enough men to attack us!”

“I think as you do,” said Warner.  “I suppose it’s best for the cavalry to go back, but I wish General Sheridan had taken me on to Washington with him.  I’d like to see the lights of the capital again.  Besides, I’d have given the President and the Secretary of War some excellent advice.”

“He isn’t jesting.  He means it,” said Pennington to Dick.

“Of course I do,” said Warner calmly.  “When General Sheridan failed to take me with him, the government lost a great opportunity.”

But their hearts were light and they rode gaily back, unconscious of the singular event that was preparing for them.

* * * *

The army of Early had not been destroyed entirely.  Sheridan, with all his energy, and with all the courage and zeal of his men could not absolutely crush his foe.  Some portions of the hostile force were continually slipping away, and now Early, refusing to give up, was gathering them together again, and was meditating a daring counter stroke.  The task might well have appalled any general and any troops, but if Early had one quality in preeminence it was the resolution to fight.  And most of his officers and men were veterans.  Many of them had ridden with Jackson on his marvelous campaigns.  They were familiar with the taste of victory, and defeat had been very bitter to them.  They burned to strike back, and they were willing to dare anything for the sake of it.

Orders had already gone to all the scattered and ragged fragments, and the men in gray were concentrating.  Many of them were half starved.  The great valley had been stripped of all its live stock, all its grain and of every other resource that would avail an army.  Nothing could be obtained, except at Staunton, ninety miles back of Fisher’s Hill, and wagons could not bring up food in time from such a distant place.

Nevertheless the men gleaned.  They searched the fields for any corn that might be left, and ate it roasted or parched.  Along the slopes of the mountains they found nuts already ripening, and these were prizes indeed.

Among the gleaners were Harry Kenton, the staunch young Presbyterian, Dalton, and the South Carolinians, St. Clair and Langdon.  St. Clair alone was impeccable of uniform, absolutely trim, and Langdon alone deserved his nickname of Happy.